


Something About You

by huldrejenta



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Awkward Flirting, Ballroom Dancing, Community: rs_small_gifts, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pizza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 04:05:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17297426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huldrejenta/pseuds/huldrejenta
Summary: Sirius isn't particularly fond of pizza, but he really likes the pizza delivery guy.





	Something About You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [digthewriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/gifts).



> Written for rs small gifts. Happy New Year, everyone!
> 
> Many thanks to the lovely [mindabbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindabbles/pseuds/mindabbles) for beta reading!
> 
> ~

It all begins with a couple of pepperoni pizzas, extra cheese. 

To be honest, Sirius isn’t all that fond of pizza. He’s never envisioned that anything of particular importance would start in between balancing pizza cartons and arguing with Peter about whose turn it is to pay.

“No,” Peter says from behind the beer bottles he’s carrying to the upside down box that’s been filling in as coffee table since the old one was ruined during one of James’ more spectacular balancing acts. “You definitely paid last week, I’d forgotten my wallet and you said you’d pay. It’s my turn tonight, I’m certain of it.”

Peter is wrong. That was the time before last time, but Sirius is quickly tiring of the topic. He says nothing when Peter arranges the beer bottles on the box-turned-table, pulls out his wallet and heads over to the front door.

“Thank you,” says the pizza delivery guy from the outside hallway. “Do you want your receipt?” It’s the voice that draws Sirius in, all raspy and warm and delicious – the kind of voice Sirius would like to listen to more. 

He makes his way to the kitchen to rid himself of the pizza boxes, and then he can finally have a better look at the angel standing in his doorway.

“Pepperoni on both?” James says. Sirius knows without looking that James is wrinkling his nose, but he’s way more interested in the owner of the raspy voice, currently stepping over the doorstep.

Maybe it’s the man’s uniform shirt and the way his collar is slightly wrinkled. Or maybe it’s the soft-looking brown curls halfway covering his ears that do it. Either way, Sirius is struck with a sudden and highly inappropriate urge to pinch the man’s red cheeks.

Peter remains oblivious to Sirius’ inner turmoil. “Don’t throw a hissy fit,” he says to James. “The other one is a veggie pizza.”

His friends are talking about _pizza toppings_ when there’s an angel standing in his doorway. An angel with long eyelashes, a nose that’s turned reddish from the cold outside, and a smile that Sirius could easily lose himself in. 

The angel sniffs. He seems to be in above average need of a handkerchief. Poor darling’s got a cold, bless him. And thrown over the red “Pizza Express” shirt he’s wearing is a jacket slightly too thin for this cold weather.

“I didn’t know they had a new veggie pizza,” James says from somewhere in the background while opening his first bottle of beer for the night. 

“Oh yeah,” Peter says as he takes the bottle James is handing him, “I saw they have lots of new stuff on the menu now.”

Peter and James keep chatting on about their mundane business, but Sirius isn’t listening to their blabbering.

“Would you like some extra menus to check out our new selection?” says Pizza Guy. Sirius drags his hand through his hair and tries to come up with something to say that isn’t, A: completely inappropriate, and B: makes him look like an idiot. Nothing comes to mind, though, and as James accepts the menus, Sirius sees his window of opportunity rapidly closing here.

Because contrary to popular belief, flirting isn’t something that comes easily to Sirius. Not when he means anything by it. He’s really good at being brash and bold, but when he wants a certain reaction to his words, it’s a different story. Flirting is hard, what with the carefully thought out little smiles and looks, and the lines that can mean so many things and create a setting full of promises of what _might_ happen, without ever saying anything that can’t be immediately withdrawn, no harm done. It’s too much a game.

Sirius hates it. He says what’s on his mind or he says nothing at all, and there’s too long a list of potentially interesting people he’s scared off by sticking too firmly to the former. 

“Shrimp!” James yells as he’s skimming through the menu he’s received from Pizza Guy. “Seafood and pizza should be kept on two different planets. It’s an abomination!”

Pizza Guy simply smiles as he shuffles a bit, indicating that he’s about to head off, and since Sirius has no intention of scaring him off with a heartfelt exclamation of how his smile is as radiant as a midsummer’s sky, he wisely keeps his mouth shut. Could anyone say that Sirius Black hasn’t matured a day since he turned twelve? Sirius dares them.

“Well,” Peter says, “if SpongeBob can eat crab burgers then I suppose we can eat shrimp pizza.”

And with friends like these, Pizza Guy will be scared far off without Sirius having to do anything. 

But then a magical thing happens. Pizza Guy locks eyes with Sirius for a few seconds. And then he opens his mouth, his sweet mouth with full lips and the loveliest hints of a smile, and _this is it_. He’s going to say something meaningful now, or at least something that shows he’s not completely repulsed by Sirius. 

Pizza Guys puts his hand in his pocket and it emerges with a card. The unmistakable logo of _The Pizza Express_ , in inch-high letters, glare at Sirius. 

“I’ll just leave this here,” he says, “for whenever you want to order pizza again.” And okay, that’s probably a tad more fitting for the occasion than the serenading Sirius already heard in his head. 

The angel smiles again, puts on his gloves, and disappears down the hallway to the exit. 

And just like that, Sirius is in love.

~

There’s only one, big flaw with these bi-weekly pizza, beer, and poker nights with his friends, Sirius thinks as the evening is drawing to its end. Like always, they’ve made a mess of the flat. Cartons are lying everywhere, someone has spilled beer on the carpet, and there’s tomato sauce on the sofa. 

James has lost even more money than usual tonight (which still isn’t much since they’re only playing with pennies), and as Sirius starts collecting bottles to bring to the kitchen, he discovers ketchup stains on the floor. He has no idea how many times he’s had this discussion with Peter (“There’s already tomato sauce on the pizza, there’s no need for ketchup!” And then James pipes up, “Anyone past seven years old knows that ketchup is _completely_ redundant.” And Peter replies, “ _Lily_ thinks it’s redundant, which shouldn’t automatically mean that _you_ think it’s redundant.” And Sirius never gets why Peter bothers, because they both know by now that’s exactly what it means).

But as Sirius takes in all the mess with a half-hearted sigh, asking himself how long it’ll take him to clean this up (tomorrow, definitely tomorrow), he decides that the major flaw with these otherwise highly enjoyable evenings, has nothing to do with the mess. It’s the fact that it’s two whole weeks until next time, over at James’ then, and they’ll be calling _The Pizza Express_ again. _Two weeks._ That’s totally unacceptable. 

Sirius is no fool. He knows that his preoccupation with Pizza Guy is shallow infatuation, or at least his brain knows it. His heart hasn’t caught the memo though, and he _really_ wants to see him again.

He isn’t even particularly fond of pizza. While he goes along with it on poker nights for the sake of tradition, it’s not what he’d ever choose for himself. He’s rather more a sushi-type of guy. He’s not ordered pizza on his own since he and Regulus did so as a little protest to their parents’ extravagant habits in food as well as everything else. 

But now, he chooses pizza.

He manages to wait three days before picking up the phone and ordering a medium veggie with balsamic vinegar on the side. It isn’t until the door bell goes off and he’s buzzed the delivery person in that he realizes there’s every chance it’s someone else currently heading up the stairs to his flat. It’s a small town with a small pizza take-out, yes, but surely Angel Face can’t work every night.

But oh, joy, tonight he is. “Ah,” Sirius says, “just what I needed!”

Pizza Guy smiles, and that’s got to count as progress, right? Making him smile? 

Nothing more happens though, and four days later Sirius orders a chicken and corn pizza with a rising pulse pounding in his ears. Alas, tonight there’s someone else on the other side of the door and Sirius gives the pizza to Gid and Fab down the hall so at least someone is happy. He sighs while trying to tell himself that he’s an adult, or at least he’s old enough to vote and to buy his own liquor, so why not just stop this pathetic ordering-pizza-to-get-to-know-the-pizza-guy nonsense right now? He even says it out loud, rather strictly – “Stop it, Sirius!”

But he can’t have been sufficiently convincing, because it’s not long before he’s ordering again. And this time it’s darling Angel Face who’s standing there, looking more divine than ever with his red cheeks and brown curls swept away from his forehead. 

“We’ve got to stop meeting this way,” Sirius says, and _when_ exactly did he start being so _lame_ when he likes someone? He winces, but Pizza Guy laughs (such a beautiful laugh, Sirius wants to hear it every day, always). 

“Oh, I don’t mind,” he says, and Sirius can’t tell if it’s in a flirting way, but he can stop neither the grinning nor the swooping sensation in his belly, because it seems at the very least that Pizza Guy has noticed him. Hopefully not in a sad-guy-who-always-orders-in-by-himself kind of way. 

“What’s your name?” he blurts. It’s not his smoothest moment, but it does the trick. 

“Remus.” Of course it is. Of course his name is one of myths and adventure, and, dare he say it, one that fits his own remarkably well. Not that he cares about that, since he is, as already established, in fact not twelve years old. 

“And I’m Sirius,” he says, through a smile much wider than it has any reason to be.

“Yes, I know. Sirius Black. It says so on your doorbell.”

Right. Of course it does. As Sirius eats his pizza afterwards, he can only conclude that he sucks at seducing anyone, which might not be surprising seeing as his natural urge when he likes someone is to yell, “Heeeey, let’s date, yeah?” Who knew taking the mature route would be so hard?

After the next delivery, Sirius is starting to realise (belatedly some might say) that it’s only so far he’s going to be able to take his current seduction method given that the person he wants to get to know better (much, much better) spends most of their three minutes together to hand out the receipt and worry about the ten pizzas waiting in the car, ready for delivery before they turn cold. Remus has said his usual, polite words and is heading to the car where the rest of the night’s work is waiting. The couple living in the flat above has started arguing; Sirius has, in his desperation, ordered a pizza he likes even less than the ones he usually eats, and his main thing to look forward to tonight is watching reruns of _First Dates_.

Well. At least he’s making Gid and Fab happy, what with all the pizzas they’re getting.

~

In the end it’s Lily who comes up with the solution on how to take the next step. She bounces little Harry up on her hip, playing with him while talking to Sirius at the same time. 

“There must be something very special about this guy, Sirius. It’s not like you to fall for someone so quickly.”

“Yeah,” Sirius says just as James peeks his head in from the kitchen to say hello. It’s James’ turn to make dinner in the Potter household, and the grease stains on his shirt leave little doubt about that fact.

“I’m not sure what it is about him,” Sirius says while watching James’ retreating back. “He’s got this really warm vibe. Wow, did I just say that?”

Lily sets a squirmy Harry down and smiles. “It sounds wonderful, if you ask me. What if – yes, Harry, that’s a very nice vase, but it should be on the end table, okay, sweetie?” Apparently it’s not okay, and Harry puts on an impressive pout as he puts the vase back. 

“Look, Harry,” Lily says, just as James yells something from the kitchen. “You can play with this fun car instead, see?” and then, without missing a beat, she says, “Yes, James, the water should be boiling first. It says so in the recipe if you could be bothered to read it.

“Honestly,” she says to Sirius, “I don’t know how anyone gets anything done here if I’m not around.”

Sirius doesn’t know either, but as horrible a friend as it might make him, he’s a bit more preoccupied with his own problems right now.

That, and making his godson laugh, of course. He’s always up for that. It doesn’t take more than a few funny faces in Harry’s direction before the little one is howling with laughter.

If only everyone was that easily won over.

“Does this guy seem to like you?” says Lily, and that’s rather the issue he’s been struggling with for… – ugh, for weeks now.

“I have no idea. He’s polite and nice and friendly, but I can’t seem to get beyond that point, you know?”

“Recipes are for sissies!” says James as he once more sticks his head out from the kitchen. He’s wearing an apron now, there’s flour in his hair, and it seems he’s having a dandy old time. 

“Help Daddy!” Harry proclaims with a loud grin, his toy car and Sirius’ funny faces forgotten. Little traitor.

“Yeah,” James says, “come here, Harry!”

Lily laughs at them, shaking her head. “James is cleaning the kitchen after dinner, so they can make all the mess they want. And Sirius,” she says, _finally_ remembering how Sirius’ heart is on the line here. “I get that it’s not easy to read the guy you like while he’s at work. What you need is to see him without his _Pizza Express_ uniform.”

Sirius snickers. “Oh, trust me, I’d love to. But I don’t know... asking him on a date just like that seems so weird. I’m useless at this, aren’t I?”

A sound of something hard hitting the floor comes from the kitchen, and James’ loud, “I’m on it!” doesn’t sound quite as calm as he did moments earlier. “Nothing to worry about!”

“I wonder about that,” Lily mumbles, but she stays firmly where she is. “Your pizza guy’s name is Remus, right?”

Sirius nods. James starts singing in the kitchen. Lily visibly relaxes and goes to sit down in her favourite armchair. “Dorcas mentioned someone named Remus the other day. Medium tall, early twenties, brown hair?”

Sirius nods again, leaning forward in his seat. 

“Raspy voice with a hint of a northern accent and a very sexy glint in his eyes?”

“Lily!”

“What? That’s what Dorcas said. Not true?”

Sirius sits back, laughing despite himself. “Yes, true. Very, very true. How does Dorcas know him?”

“Harry, no!” James yells from the kitchen and Lily rolls her eyes with what looks like a reluctant grin.

“They go to the same dancing classes,” she says. “Dorcas and Remus, I mean. You know she goes ballroom dancing on Saturdays? Apparently the man of your dreams goes there too.”

Sirius coughs. “Ballroom dancing?”

“Yes, oh Sirius, this is so good. If he goes ballroom dancing, maybe _you’ll_ get into ballroom dancing, and you’d be dashing out there, you really would.”

“Well,” Sirius says, excitement slowly building in his belly. “I do rather like a nice Sinatra tune.” He leans back, immediately picturing himself and Remus swirling around on the dance floor dressed to the nines, dancing to the most dreamy music, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. “Maybe I will, Lily,” he says. “Maybe I will. There’s no way I’m going there by myself, though.”

“Sirius, you don’t need a chaperon. You’re perfectly capable of going alone.”

“Yeah, but...”

That’s when James steps out from the kitchen, a wide smile and only a few stains of sauce on his apron. Harry peeks out from behind James, with a smile just as wide and with only a few stains more on his clothes than his father.

“Dinner’s ready!”

~

“No way!”

Convincing his best friend that spending a Saturday night ballroom dancing is a perfectly nice and not at all weird thing to do turns out to be harder than Sirius anticipated. But with Peter being away to visit his girlfriend most weekends, James is his only hope.

“Come on,” he says through a bite of fish filet (which actually turned out to be pretty nice, in spite of his misgivings when listening to the tumult James made in the kitchen with expert help from Harry). “I’m awful by myself. I’ll probably end up writing him romantic poetry on the spot and loudly recite it in front of everyone. You know, completely embarrass myself and make certain he’s never going to want to speak to me ever again.”

“That’s rubbish,” James says as he nods at Harry, who’s asking to be excused. “You’re not bad at flirting, Sirius, why do you keep saying that? You’ve charmed so many people over the years, like, tons of them.”

“Yeah, but that’s because it’s never meant anything. I don’t really flirt as such. I just blurt out whatever pops up in my head at the time.”

“So why don’t you do that with Remus?” says Lily, sitting back in her chair after having finished eating.

“Because I don’t want him to think I’m a... I don’t even know. Some weirdo.”

Lily smiles at him then, warmly, whereas James is less polite about it as he lets out a loud laugh. “Sirius,” he says, “if you want to be with him, he’s going to figure that out sooner or later anyway.”

“You know,” Lily says. “That’s exactly what we all want. Someone who knows how weird we are and who wants to be with us anyway.” She sends James a look so full of fondness that Sirius feels a sudden urge to blink. 

James, however, is not that easily swayed. “I’m not going,” he says, folding his arms for good measure, “I’m not going ballroom dancing with you, and that’s the end of it.”

~

If Sirius has imagined his first time ballroom dancing to be people dressed in gowns and tuxedos and a nice little live band in one corner of a beautifully lit dancing hall, then he’s thoroughly disappointed when he walks through the doors the following Saturday. 

There’s nothing fancy about the bare hall or the music coming from tiny speakers or people dressed in joggers for a night out dancing. But it’s a nice atmosphere, everyone seems to be having fun, and Remus is there. That’s all that matters.

“I can’t believe,” James says, “the things I do for you, Sirius Black.”

“Come on,” Sirius says, “don’t be such a snob. This looks like fun.” 

And it is fun. Even James has to reluctantly agree as the evening advances. Everyone is very friendly, eager to show the newcomers all the steps needed to stumble their way through waltz and pasodoble and a quite alternative version of the tango – a much more fun version if anyone asks Sirius.

“We want these dances to be for everyone,” says the little old lady Sirius ends up dancing with. “Not just the privileged few like it used to be.”

She’s lovely, and Sirius has a great time, but it’s not until the dancers take a break and Sirius sees Remus casually strolling towards him that the night really takes off. _Act normal, Sirius, for once in your life. Don’t blow this._

“Sirius Black, as I live and breathe,” says Remus. “Not in the mood for ordering in pizza tonight?” He’s slightly out of breath from dancing, his eyes are full of joy, and he’s even more delightful than usual. Sirius really wants to hug him.

“A man can’t live on pizza alone,” Sirius says.

“Quite right. Especially since I have a feeling you’re not particularly fond of pizza anyway.” Remus looks like he’s having way too much fun now, and Sirius isn’t certain if he likes where this is heading. At all.

“You do?”

Remus is full on grinning now. “Yep. At least if the amount of pizzas you’ve been giving Gid and Fab lately is any indication.”

Sirius can literally feel his face fall. “You know them?”

“I do, yeah. I work with their sister Molly in my day job and I’m friends with all three of them. Gid and Fab have been very happy if not a little nonplussed by all the pizza they’ve got for free lately.”

So much for trying to stay smooth. “Oh,” Sirius says. “What’s your day job, then?” It might not be the world’s worst attempt at changing the subject, but it comes pretty high up on the list.

“I work at the hospital, teaching the kids there who can’t go to school.” And of course he does, of course he works with something wonderful and worthwhile. Sirius thinks about his and James’ and Peter’s days at the office, half-heartedly wondering if it’s too late to change profession. 

“How lovely,” he says, and he means it. Remus accepts the compliment with a nod, but apparently he’s not forgotten why they started talking about this in the first place.

“I must admit,” he says, shuffling a little as the crowd is starting to gather on the dance floor again, “that I’ve wondered why you order pizza so often and then end up giving it away half the time. I doubt it’s because you worry for Gid’s and Fab’s level of food intake. So what other reasons could there be?”

“Uhm,” says Sirius, looking around for James, because it seems Sirius has reverted to pre-pubescent levels of awkwardness, but James is busy enthusiastically chatting to his own little old lady as they get ready for the quickstep. Everything points to Sirius being on his own here.

Before he’s able to muster a response though, his dance partner comes up to him with a smile and puts her arm in his, asking if he’s ready, and well, there’s only so much explaining he can do with this sweet lady standing next to him.

“Of course,” he says to her, and then, since he came here to get to know Remus better, and he’s been making a rather poor attempt of it so far, he turns to Remus and says, “Maybe we could talk later, over a cup of coffee or something?”

There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?

“I’d like that,” Remus says. The rest of the night Sirius dances on cloud nine.

~

“How long have you known?”

Sirius curls his fingers around his cappuccino and looks Remus in the eye as he asks. 

“Known what?” Apparently Remus has no intention of making this easy for Sirius. 

“That I was ordering pizza mainly to meet you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Remus’ mouth. “If you mean _known_ , then I’d say about five seconds. But if you mean _suspected_ , probably from the third time you ordered or so.” He takes a sip from his cup of black coffee before looking up at Sirius. “You’re not very subtle.”

“And here I was thinking I held back like a pro,” Sirius says, not quite certain if this is a good or a bad thing. 

“Why would you want to hold back?” says Remus, leaning forward in his seat.

“Because,” Sirius says, searching for the right words for a second before deciding to just say it like it is. “Because I’m what many people would call a bit too much. I’m loud and I say what I mean and sometimes I offend people without meaning too, and well, sometimes I offend them intentionally too. If they’re arseholes, that is. Not very often if they’re not. 

“Thing is, Remus. Thing is that I really like you. There’s something about you and I’d love to get to know you better and see where it might lead. And I suppose I was afraid I’d scare you away before you even got to know me.”

“Oh,” Remus says. He takes another sip while Sirius feels his heart jumping up into his throat. 

“I don’t mind loud,” Remus says after what feels like forever.

“You don’t?”

“You see, Sirius, people don’t often fall for me. Or if they do it’s a misunderstanding that soon gets cleared up.”

“I find that very hard to believe,” Sirius says, because surely, everyone must see how completely wonderful Remus is. 

Remus shrugs. “Well,” he says, “even if that’s true, I tend to push people away.” He takes a deep breath, as if preparing for something. “To be honest with you, I’m often way too sarcastic, I’ve been sick a lot, and I have a hard time opening up to people. So if anything, someone who’s loud about their feelings might just be what I need.”

Sirius lets that sink for a minute. And then he smiles.

“So what do you say, then?” he says, covering Remus’ hand with his, nudging him with his pinkie. “Would you like to go out with me, on a proper date I mean? To see if this is what I think it is and we’ll end up married before we know it?”

Remus laughs then, and it’s the most precious sound. Sirius will never tire of it. “I’d like that,” Remus says. “Just one thing. No pizza date.”

“Done. I wouldn’t mind going dancing though.”

And so, the next Saturday they’re back at the dance hall, this time without James, and they’re going out for dinner afterwards. And then the next. And the next. Eventually they do other things as well, but they find themselves getting closer and closer to each other no matter what they do. Sirius has a strong feeling they will never stop.


End file.
